


Unicorn Hair and Teal Hell

by Secret_Chord



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 03:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Chord/pseuds/Secret_Chord
Summary: All Voldemort wanted was a little bit of revenge. Was that too much to ask?





	Unicorn Hair and Teal Hell

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As a fan of both Harry Potter and Wentworth I've often wondered what would happen if those two worlds collided. Then this little cracky idea came to me and well... here we are. This is also my very first fanfic so let me know what you think :)
> 
> A/N 2: I disregarded the timeline for HP, but Wentworth segment is set loosely around episode 11 (season 5), after Vera loses her governorship.

 

**Outskirts of Hogsmeade, Scotland - Five years ago**

Ten figures stood on a hillside overlooking Hogsmeade, their dark cloaks gently billowing in an autumn breeze. It was a pleasant night, unusually warm considering it was the last day of October.

The leader of this small gathering walked slowly up and down, tapping his wand lightly on the palm of his hand. He wasn't happy. Not happy at all.

Lord Voldemort hated many things. He hated families, gathering around the table and sharing a meal and a laugh after a long, tiring day. He hated children with their screeching little voices and silly optimism. He absolutely loathed Dumbledore. That old fool denied him the position that was rightfully his. But Dumbledore will regret his decision. And the first fool that'll become the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, will soon wish they'd never been born.

But most of all, Voldemort hated waiting. He lost himself in thought, gleefully imagining all the ways in which he'd torture Pettigrew when he comes back.

"My Lord", Severus Snape broke the silence. "Pettigrew returned with the hair of the unicorn".

"Ah, at last. You took your time, Wormtail", Voldemort turned to look at the latecomer, his voice barely a whisper.

"I-I'm sssorry, Master", Pettigrew stuttered. "Unicorns are ha-hard to find".

"Male unicorns", Voldemort corrected him, his voice drifting through the dead silence. "The curse will only work if the unicorn is a male. The hair is from a male's mane, is it not?"

"Yes, of course my Lord", mousey man fell to Voldemort's feet.

"The hair. Give. It. To. Me."

Pettigrew extended his trembling hand to his master, while the other Death Eaters watched in anticipation. Snape was reserved. _Pettigrew couldn't find a unicorn if the damned thing danced tango in front of him, with the rose between its teeth._

Severus could feel the new wave of irritation washing over him. He had essays to mark. Granger undoubtely wrote 70 pages on why are house elves friends and not servants. And Malfoy. He' d have to give maximum score to the little snot and his narcissistic wank fest on the importance of pure-blood wizarding families. Then there was Potter. Bloody Harry Potter. If he doesn't become an alchoholic after Potter's sensless drivel about the perfect size of a Quidditch ball, he'll consider himself lucky.

_Hm, maybe this wasn't so bad after all._

"After this night my friends, Defence Against The Dark Arts position will be forever cursed". Voldemort's thin lips stretched into a morbid smile. He put the final ingredient into the pot, murmuring the incantation. Bright teal smoke erupted, casting light on the Death Eaters and patches of grass scattered around the hill.

Voldemort's smile vanished in an instant. The smoke was supposed to be purple. He turned to look at the spot that Pettigrew occupied not a moment ago, now vacant. His eyes flashed dangerously.

_That went well,_ pondered Snape whilst hiding his thoughts under ten layers of Occlumency. _By the look of it that idiot took a hair from a female unicorn._ Snape felt relieved. Hogwarts is safe, at least for now. _But the curse will rear its ugly head somewhere in the world, Merlin only knows where._

He almost felt sorry for Pettigrew. _The Dark Lord will make a Halloween decoration out of him._ Then he remembered that the little rodent escaped and that those present, his own behind not excluded, will most likely pay.

_Please let it be Carrow,_ thought Snape as Voldemort released a blood-curdling scream of pure rage.

~~~

**Melbourne, Australia - Present day**

Vera Bennett sat in the staff room of Wentworth Correctional Centre, staring absently into the distance. She was trying to pinpoint the exact moment in her life when everything had gone to shit.

Her private life was always unhappy, she concluded, one disappointment after another. She had her dear mum to thank for that, but professionally? There was a time at the beginning of her career in corrections when she had been content; away from Rita's poison and towards something akin to purpose.

Past five years went by in chaotic whirlwind, what with Jacs Holt blackmailing her and Doyle making fools out of them all with overflowing Wentworth with drugs. Bea Smith's reign as a Top Dog had its ups and downs and Joan Ferguson... Oh god. Vera suddenly felt tired. So very tired.

Her head touched the table as she sighed heavily. If she listened closely, she could hear her own heartbeat.

"Rough night, Vera?" Miles helpfully supplied in the passing, mocking smirk firmly at place.

"Just leave me alone, Linda".

"Suit yourself. My shift's over anyway." Staff room was vacant yet again, prompting Vera to return to her bleak thoughts.

Things went wrong the day Meg Jackson was killed. She was tough at times, but everything went smooth enough during her reign as the Governor. Well, smooth as things can go in this hell. Erica took over soon after and barely lasted three months.

And then the devil herself. She remembered that day clearly, the day when Joan Ferguson entered through this very staff room for the first time and gave them a memorable pep talk. She oozed with calm confidence, standing over them all like a marble statue. Her words stayed with Vera in following days, echoing in her mind as she click-clacked through the Wentworth's halls during long shifts, her head held a little higher.

_"You stick with me, we'll achieve great things together"._

So much for that.

In the meantime Ferguson changed her neatly pressed uniform for a teal tracksuit, but her destructive ways and mind games remained the same.

After her former mentor, came Vera's time to shine. She wanted to help these women, to turn all the wrongs to rights and give them hope. But fate had other plans and now that baldheaded slime Channing is sitting in her office. Snorting coke and checking women's behinds on the CCTV, most likely.

_Hm._

_That's five Governors in barely five years._

If she were superstitious, she'd say the position was well and truly cursed.

~~~

Joan sat on a small cot, thinking. Plotting. Soft light seeped through the window, casting shadows across the sparsely decorated cell, bathing it in golden yellow.

An opened burgundy envelope was laying in her lap. Now she had proof that Governors interchanging with such frequency was no coincidence. She was robbed of her position and say what you will about Joan Ferguson, but she wasn't the forgiving type. She smirked, her dark eyes twinkling with malice. She'll crush them all if it's the last thing she does.

 

THE END


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